


One Minute after Midnight

by Lunasong365



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Apocalypse, End of the World, Gen, Post-Nuclear War, for real this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 08:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15215516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasong365/pseuds/Lunasong365
Summary: The world has ended for real. And this time, it's the humans that did it.





	One Minute after Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in February 2018 based on current events and recently decided to finish it. I enjoy artists' and writers' depictions of True Forms, so if I've incorporated yours, it means I liked it :)
> 
> The title is based on the Doomsday Clock countdown.

“What are we going to do now?”

Crowley clung to Aziraphale as the angel dejectedly gazed down at the smoldering remains of Earth. The intense strobe-like explosions advancing across the population centers of the globe had finally ceased. Malevolent clouds now almost completely obscured the surface. They swirled ominously, occasional eerie shimmers of perverse luminescence visible through the churning gaps even from their remote vantage point.

They’d always known they’d be around when the world ended, because they were immortal and didn’t have any alternative. Not so many years ago, they’d stood together with the humans against Heaven and Hell to save it. But in six thousand years of living on Earth, through wars and crusades and plagues and the Apocawasn’t, they’d never anticipated this outcome. The worst of humanity had superseded even the Ineffable Plan.

The demon buried his face in the cisor-tipped digits of his true form. The twenty-first century had been rough on the world, and consequently, on lovers of the world. He and his angel counterpart had survived the changing climate and ensuing scarcity of resources. They’d survived the oceans rising and the rivers becoming undrinkable. They’d even survived the virulent bacterial epidemic that had killed off half the population. But Crowley and Aziraphale had lost their human bodies in one of the initial blasts of an unprecedented holocaust.

The detonation, to a certain extent, had been unexpected, which was somewhat merciful. The brilliant flash of light had been the last thing they’d seen. The ensuing firestorm had made short work of anything combustible. The spreading radiation had been more deadly than the remnant of survivors could bear.

“Bastards,” Crowley spat. “That fucking neon-nightmare twat. And his dear respected comrade, the pocket rocket man. Whose was bigger? Whose was better? Whose was more powerful? Had to push your big red buttons and find out, did ya?”

Aziraphale turned his heads to lay them on Crowley’s shoulder. The demon’s focused anger provided scant distraction from the sickening void at the center of his core hollowed out by the humans’ final extinction.

Crowley continued his diatribe. “Global warming. Destruction of environment. Intolerance. Greed. Murderous regimes. Now topped off with the big red cherry of thermonuclear war. How come humans had to be so damned imaginative for all the wrong reasons?”

“The poets were wrong,” the angel commented moodily.

“Eh?” Crowley responded as if a girder had just been dropped in front of his train of thought.

“About the world ending in a whimper instead of a bang. In ice instead of fire.”

“What? The world as we know it has ended and you’re wibbling about poetry? But you know, Frost did say it could go either way. I happen to know that he settled on ice for subliminal reasons.”

Aziraphale grimaced and continued. “The Horsepersons returned because enough people wanted them to. People believed in _them_ – War, Famine, Pollution, and Pestilence – instead of believing in loving their neighbor, being kind, and getting along with each other. I no longer think the meek and merciful had a chance to inherit the Earth. The worst of humanity escalated a deadly game in which the only winning move was not to play.

“The free will that you gave the humans in Eden turned out to be a gift. It inspired them to create so many amazing things and they’d come so far. They kept coming so close to choosing a path toward global cooperation. They’d had the opportunity to learn from history – codified in books like mine… mine used to…“ He sighed mournfully and reached for one of Crowley’s tentacles as the world below them burned. “In the end, neither freedom of choice nor the ability to learn from mistakes were used in the ways they could have been.

“I’d always thought of it as my world too, and now that it’s gone, I can’t help but feel that I’ve failed them. Maybe if I’d…”

“What? What could you have done? The fact that humans were so delightfully imperfect is what made them so interesting in the first place.” Crowley sniffed and ineffectually rubbed at the openings of his nostril ducts. “They made it so easy…”

“They made it easy for me too. Often enough, they’d demonstrate enough awe-inspiring grace that it amazed even me. I never did admit to Gabriel that I had nothing to do with most of the reports I turned in. It’s just… I never thought it would end like this. I kept holding onto the hope that all the troubles that got thrown at them would give people the opportunity to become… well, never mind that now. I’m just very grateful that you’re still with me. Here.”

Crowley didn’t question where the duck-egg-blue silk handkerchief had come from. He blew his nose – silently – as sound didn’t carry in the low earth orbit of the derelict satellite on which they were perched. The satellite bobbled a bit.

“Oh. It’s you.”

The greyed-out orb of the Earth reflected off the visor of the new arrival. YES. Death sighed and settled next to Crowley as Aziraphale moved over to allow more room.

I’VE BEEN BUSY. END TIMES, YOU KNOW.

“Have you come for us, then?”

Death hooked his scythe through a solar array strut, pulled a tablet from the pocket of his leather greatcoat, and began to scroll with a bony finger.

YOU ARE NOT ON THE LIST. I DO NOT THINK HEAVEN AND HELL ANTICIPATED HOW OVERWHELMED WITH NEW ARRIVALS THEY WOULD BE - AS THIS WAS NOT OF THEIR DOING. HUMAN NATURE HAS TAKEN ITS FINAL COURSE. ABOVE AND BELOW DID NOT HAVE THE PROPER RESOURCES IN PLACE AND THEY ARE NOW OTHERWISE OCCUPIED. He turned, and appeared to be looking directly at the two supernatural beings through the dark visor of his helmet. YOU HAVE BEEN OVERLOOKED.

“But why aren’t you with the Horsepersons?”

Death considered the question. DURING THE LAST APOCALYPSE, I LEARNED SOMETHING FROM THE HUMAN ADAM YOUNG. I AM NOT LIKE THEM. I DO NOT HAVE TO BE LIKE THEM. I NO LONGER RIDE WITH THEM, AND THAT’S WHY THEY INVITED PESTILENCE BACK. YOU SEE, he admitted rather gloomily, I ALSO WAS FOND OF HUMANS. AND CATS. He sighed wistfully. CATS WERE NICE.

SINCE THE HUMANS NO LONGER EXIST, NEITHER DO THE HORSEPERSONS. ONLY I REMAIN. AND NOW THAT THE WORLD IS DESTROYED, he shrugged, WILL THAT DESTROY ME?

Crowley furrowed his brow in thought. “Maybe not… I once watched a television series – ‘Life After People.’ It speculated what would happen to the Earth if people suddenly disappeared. Some things _will_ survive somehow – it will just take some time to recover. And the world might be different, but there will be things that are _alive._ And if they’re alive…”

Death nodded. IF THEY’RE ALIVE, THEY’LL NEED TO BE DEAD AT SOME POINT. THANK YOU, CROWLEY. THAT IS VERY REASSURING. AU REVOIR. He collected his scythe and raised a skeletal hand in salute, then spread his massive wings, dark as the universe behind them, and disappeared into the backdrop of stars.

Aziraphale rubbed the back of one of his heads as Crowley morosely turned his gaze back toward Earth. Night had slipped across the surface and the newly fallen darkness revealed an eerie orange glow from beneath the clouds. The background white noise to which they’d become so accustomed – the thoughts of millions of people – had gone silent.

“I watched that series too, you know. The plants always seemed first to come back. I know how much you liked your plants. Do you think…?”

“No,” Crowley said decisively. “I liked plants. But I loved people. Without humans, the Earth is as useless as the Garden of Eden – beautiful, but boring. For a thousand years you and I enjoyed the pleasures of the Earth together, watching people, playing at wiling and thwarting, all the while appreciating everything that humans had created. But you heard what Death said. No one is paying attention to us right now. We’ve always been worried about the consequences of the Arrangement. This might finally be our chance to give both Heaven and Hell the slip. But where can we go?” He snaked a tentacle around Aziraphale’s shoulder and started scratching behind one of Aziraphale’s ears with the claw. Aziraphale leaned into the gesture and hummed, temporarily mollified by the comfort of the familiar motion.

“Mmh. Someone once told me a story about a mountain that was at the end of the universe… “

“And a bird?”

“There was one in the story.”

“And _The Sound of Music?_ And sushi restaurants?” Crowley continued to scratch as Aziraphale started a low rumble-like purr.

“Yes. And they were very nice. And they were important to me at the time. But in the end, not essential.”

“Essential?”

“Now I know all I need is you. Just you. And maybe a new cottage. Perhaps the next one should be on a mountain.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like we’ll be using the Bentley to get there. As previously demonstrated, it’s as combustible as your books.” Crowley smiled wryly to the extent that his oozing maw and poignant response would allow.  “And we don’t have a space ship. But…” His yellow eyes sparkled as they’d always done when he’d gotten a brilliant idea.  “…I’ve thought of an alternative.”

He clicked his digits and a midnight-cherry Tesla Roadster materialized, floating in synchronized orbit before them.

Aziraphale cocked a whiskered eyebrow in amusement. “Really, my dear. Red? And this seems a bit… modern for you.”

The demon smirked as he waved goodbye to Starman, having pulled the mannequin from the driver’s seat and given it a swift kick in the rear. “Just the fortuitous result of one of my more successful narcissistic temptations. I just happened to remember that this car was available. Get in, angel. We’re going on a road trip. Except where we’re going, we don’t need roads.” 

As Crowley fiddled with the keyless ignition, Aziraphale ungracefully settled his huge bulk into the passenger seat. “What’s this supposed to mean? ‘Don’t Panic’?” he asked, pointing to a sign on the dash.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Crowley deadpanned, having just successfully bypassed the electronic start system. The engine vibrated to life. The sound system abruptly flipped from David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity’ to Queen’s ‘These are the Days of Our Lives.’

_Those days are all gone now but one thing's still true  
When I look and I find I still love you_

Hand in tentacle, the two friends drove into the universe to find a mountain among the stars.

**Author's Note:**

> references:  
> T. S. Eliot: "The Hollow Men"  
> Robert Frost: "Fire and Ice"  
> WarGames (1983)  
> Back to the Future (1985)
> 
> Source for how a nuclear war would look from space: https://physics.stackexchange.com/questions/38415/


End file.
